10 June 1935 – 16 June 1935

At Monks House. Working very hard. I think I shall rush these scenes off. Yet I cannot write this morning (Tuesday). How can I say, naturally, I have inherited the Rose and the Star!

In some ways, it’s rather like writing The Waves—these last scenes. I bring my brain to a state of congestion, have to stop; go upstairs, run into towsled Mrs. Brewster, come back; find a little flow of words. It’s the extreme condensation; the contrasts; the keeping it all together. Does this mean that it’s good? I feel I have a round of great pillar to set up and can only drag and sweat. It’s something like that. It’s getting barer and more intense. And then what a relief when I have the upper air scenes—like the one with Eleanor! only they have to be condensed too. It’s the proper placing that strains me.